Titanfall: Echoes
by Chryolain
Summary: JD just woke up in the middle of a warzone with a gun in hand, and no idea who he is. All he knows is what his vague memories tell him: That he's a Titan Pilot. But that won't save him from painful flashbacks to a battle that changed the frontier, that no one can forget and he can't remember. The only way to survive is to suit up, push forward, and to decode the echoes of his past.
1. Is This Your First Day?

Smell is widely considered the greatest memory trigger, and the smell of battle is certainly no exception. The aroma of sweat and blood, the stench of oil and gunpowder. It was something you could never forget, and I was confused because somehow it wasn't new to me.

I didn't know how I'd ended up here. I couldn't recall where I'd come from or what exactly was happening. I just knew that I was under fire, and someone was shouting at me to take hardpoint Alpha. I could feel the weight of the air around me, and the stench of war permeated my nostrils. My brain tried to process, but all I could bring to thought was: Fight. So I focused on the moment at hand.

The rifle in my grip was heavy, and the armor on my back more so. I looked up, and my helmet lit the large room up, and highlighted a single figure. Across the room from me was a humanoid robot, about my size, who was taking aim with his own rifle. I reacted without much thought, my eyes snapping down the sights, and my finger pulling the trigger, it was all like some long forgotten instinct. The kick of the rifle as it rattled against my shoulder, and the sound of the bullets slamming into the machine, it all seemed so natural.

"Woah!" A voice next to me shouted, and I turned to see a large man in a dirty brown suit of armor, "That Spectre nearly got us, good shot, sir."

"It was just reflex." My voice was quiet, mainly because I was focusing on trying to remember anything I could. I spotted a bright green moon above us in the blue sky, and I tried to remember the name of the planet we were on, but names were not coming to me. I heard someone shout something about not being able to control the other hardpoints, and somebody else shouting about the last officer dropping.

"We've got one Captain left on the field." The man explained, and nodded to me, "Looks like you're operational commander, Sir." I looked at him, and he gave me a slight salute, and then aimed his gun near my head. I was shocked, but then he fired over my shoulder and shot another robot which had jumped through a window above us. Then he laughed like a madman, and turned to a trio of less armored men who'd entered.

"Let's go secure Alpha!"

"There's no way we can get Alpha or Charlie!" One of the soldiers leaned against a wall, and fired out of a gap in the stone. Folsom shook his head, and turned to me.

"We're getting our asses handed to us." He was very matter-of-fact.

"What the hell is happening here?" My question seemed surprising to him, and he patted my shoulder.

"Sir, we gave it our best, but don't think we can-"

"No! I mean, what is happening? Where are we?" This time he got wide eyed, and then called out for a medic.

"Folsom, the last medic got wiped out by that Atlas!" A soldier replied, and the man cursed. He focused on me again, and shook his head.

"Look, you may have hit your head, we've-" He was cut off by a gravelly voice on the radio.

"We've lost this battle, pilots, get to the extraction point. Shuttle in thirty seconds." I wasn't the only one who'd heard, all the soldiers in the half destroyed building we were standing in had turned, and started running out the door and across an open road towards someplace, where? I didn't know.

"You heard him, come on, we'll work out the rest once we're off this rock!" The man, Folsom, grabbed me, and pushed me through the door into the open. So, with no memory prior to the last thirty seconds, no idea where I was going, and no idea who we were running from, I sprinted full speed. The adrenaline coursing through me was like a high, I could hear shouting and gunfire nearby, but I kept my eyes glued to the men in front of me, all of whom climbed a half demolished staircase, on the side of an equally demolished building. Then when we reached the top, they all spread out along the rooftop.

"We're ready for evac." One of the soldiers, the only woman I could spot, spoke. Nearly immediately, as if she'd cued it, a dark triangular ship came screeching out of the clouds. I watched as it swung in closer to the building, and it's entire side peeled away to open into the cabin. My gaze was cut off by a burst of lead moving in my line of sight, and I turned to the source.

On the ground nearby, a dozen of the robot men, Spectres, were firing at us, alongside two men in shining silver gear. One of the men caught a soldier of ours in the shoulder, and Folsom grabbed him as he fell. The ship had settled to a hover by the buildings edge, and the two pilots were hollering at us, but I couldn't hear over the sound of gunfire and the engines. The entire group was busy in the gun battle with the men on the ground. So I pulled up my own rifle, and started firing. I dropped a Spectre with each burst from the weapon, and the soldiers with me took the chance to leap the gap into the evac ship. They had left me covering them on my own, but somehow my weapon snapped from enemy to enemy, and I managed to hold the remaining troops back behind cover. Folsom went into the ship last, dragging the wounded man with him.

"Captain, we've got to go!" He shouted to me, and I turned to the ship. Seeing the man, waving me towards him, leaning against the side of the door, it caused a burst of pain in my head. The sound ebbed out of the world, my legs wobbled beneath me, and for a second Folsom seemed to morph into a rough looking Caucasian man with a military haircut and a sharp knife in hand. Then, just as fast as the vision appeared it vanished, and Folsom was shouting for me to jump.

The moment I had control over my balance again, I ran the few feet, and jumped towards the open door. Wind rushed in my face, and bullets whizzed past me. I hadn't made it the entire distance, and my feet clashed on the precipice of the ship's cabin. Just as I thought I was going to fall back towards the ground, Folsom and the woman grabbed my shoulders, and pulled me inward roughly. I landed against the interior with a hefty thud, and rolled to face the opening.

Then as the door started to close, and the ship pulled away, I spotted a dark object crash into the ground alongside the two men who'd been shooting. it had dropped from the sky, and one of the two men rushed towards it. I couldn't see much through the debris and smoke, but I did manage to see a single glowing blue eye, and hear the roar of metal grinding. Then the door shut all the way, and we were washed in blue light. When the light died, the only thing outside the ship were millions of stars.

"Damn, good thing they didn't call that Atlas down a second sooner, or else it might not have let us break for warp." The woman reached up, and unclasped her helmet, "Good cover fire, Captain." She tossed her helmet down, and fell into a seat nearby. The man who'd been shot grabbed it quickly, and vomited into it.

"Damn, warp is rough on wounds."

"What the hell was all that?!" I shouted now, and the entire cabin, minus the puking man, turned my way.

"Hey, we're not your squad, we don't need some random officer lecturing us on tactics." The woman wasn't praising any more, she was immediately defensive.

"No, I mean... Who are you people? Why were we being shot at? Why do you keep calling me Captain?" I felt blood rush from my heart across my body, but my brain seemed to be getting the least of the flow, and my vision started to darken.

"He's looking pale." Folsom sat next to the woman, "Sir, if you don't mind my asking, what's your name?"

"I... I don't know." The ship seemed to shift sideways.

"He's going down." The woman leaped forward to catch me, but was too slow. I didn't even feel myself hit the floor; I had already blacked out.


	2. Woke Up A New Man

I dreamed of a single person. A pale man with a South African accent. He spoke of killing and war, and his lips seemed to savor the words of death like honey. I watched him tear apart men and Spectres alike, and grin as blood and oil permeated the air. Then I saw him cursing at a sealed glass wall. He shouted a name, and another voice told him to get away from the place. He looked at me, and grabbed my arm, shoving me away from the glass. Suddenly, we were in a drop ship, just like the one I'd collapsed in, and we looked out at a massive city of pipes. There was a flash of light, followed by a thick darkness, and I heard him again.

"You kill me, you're better," his face appeared before me, out of the darkness, and then twisted into the face of a silver and blue Spectre, "I kill you, I'm better."

"Get away from me!" I screamed as I awoke, and a dozen men in medical gear leapt back in surprise. I looked about the room, and saw I was lying on a gurney up against a series of medical machines. I sat up and the men, I assumed to be doctors, told me to be slow.

"Sir, do you remember your name?" One of them asked, and I shook my head. Then I vomited on the floor. I felt my head spin, and I tried to wipe my mouth with my sleeve, but was caught on something. A number of IVs were in my arm, and I didn't hesitate to tear them out. Regret hit me, as I instantly felt even worse, and threw up yet again.

"Sir, be careful," the doctor who'd asked my name stepped in front of me, consecutively waving away the other doctors, "without those stimulants you're going to be even more groggy. Look, my name is Carson, and I'm head of the medical bay here. Do you speak English? Or do you have another language?" I stared at him, and then spit out the remaining bile in my mouth.

"English is fine." I uttered, and stretched my neck.

"Alright, do you remember anything?"

"Other than how to talk, and move... No." I took a deep breath, "What happened to me?"

"As far as we can tell," he bit his lip, and shook his head, "Somebody infected your system with a genetic altering chemical compound. Your body, as far as we can tell, fought off a large amount of the physical changes, but your mind didn't hang on as well. Luckily, it didn't send you catatonic."

"I can't remember my own name, and I'm lucky?" My head was pounding, and I felt uncomfortable in the bare-backed hospital gown.

"Considering it could've made you a vegetable, yes, you're very lucky." Carson reached an arm out, and I took his hand. With his help, I stood, and managed to hold myself upright. There was an ache in my knees, and it got even more noticeable as I shook the sleep from one leg at a time.

"Where am I?" I looked around the room, and spotted dense foliage through one of the window panes.

"You're on board The Iliad, flagship of the militia fleet."

"In the middle of a jungle?" I motioned to the window, and Carson chuckled.

"Holographic." He walked to the window, and pressed a button. The lush green jungle was replaced with the neverending black of space, "It keeps the men on board from feeling claustrophobic. I personally enjoy seeing _space_ when I'm in _space_, but I live with it."

"We... We're in space." My memories burned somewhere in my head, like a shadow being cast into my minds eye. I remembered vaguely, a series of words, "We're on the frontier?"

"That's right, the Stratus system to be specific, a middle set of planets along the frontier." He sighed, and looked out the glass, "There are only four planets in this system, and we just lost them all to the IMC."

"The Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation..." The words slid slowly out of my mouth, and I felt the shadows vanish, I had no immediate recollection of this 'IMC' other than the name. I could feel a warm sensation at the center of my brain, then it vanished.

"Yep, so we'll be bugging out in a few minutes." He pressed a button, and the jungle returned in place of the dark expanse, "I was hoping you'd sleep through the warp, but we don't always get what we hope."

"I have two questions," I pursed my lips, "well, I actually have a lot of questions, but two to start out with. One: Who should I talk to to sort this out, and two: could I get a pair of pants, please?"

Ten minutes later, I was dressed in a pair of grey cargo trousers, and a tight fitting brown t-shirt. Carson had given me a series of stimulant shots, and I was no longer standing like a newborn deer. The cool air of the medical bay was nearly chilled enough to produce goosebumps, but the anxiety of the situation sent my body boiling. I was waiting on an officer that the good doctor had sent for, and my heel tapped up and down rapidly as I sat in the medical table. I could feel a tingling sensation run up and down my spine, I was nervous to say the least. Then the doors opened, and my nervousness increased a hundredfold, as a shapely woman in an identical uniform to my own entered.

"Hey, doc." She greeted, and then looked me over, "This is him then?"

"Yes, Captain this is Sarah. She's head of troop and Titan deployment for the fleet."

"Nice to meet you." I held out a hand and she shook it, then proceeded to scan me closely.

"So, amnesia?"

"Worse, gene altering treatment."

"That means he's not even physically what he was before?" She turned to the doctor, and crossed her arms. I took the moment to look her up and down, noting her strong stance and her close-cut red hair

"Nope, his new fingerprints and iris patterns have never been entered into any database. It's like he's a brand new human being." The doctor picked up a clipboard, "We didn't even know where to begin. We even listed him as John Doe."

"Hmm, well from what I heard from Lambda Squad he can fight, and from the gear he had on he's a pilot." Sarah to the clipboard and read over a few things. Then she handed it back to the doctor, and turned to me again. I had unfortunately been gazing at an area below her belt, and she caught my eyes darting away, from what I hope she thought was her back pocket. "He seems curious." She winked at me.

"I, uh... Like to keep my eyes on the prize." I muttered and she smiled. Then she pat my shoulder.

"Well, how does the name John Doe sound to you?"

"Uh... Kinda long."

"How about just John, or JD?"

"JD seems fine." I didn't know my past, but I may as well try to find something to call myself. JD seemed just as good as the next name.

"Alright then, JD it is." She took my hand and helped me to my feet. I stood about a head taller than her, and she eyed me from below, "With this build you're definitely a pilot."

"What build?" I glanced down, and she chuckled.

"Tall and thin, but strong enough to lift yourself up the side of a building, it's practically the job requirement."

"Okay, well what exactly do I pilot?" I raised the question, and she grinned.

"You don't remember at all?" She leaned back against the medical table and grinned, "Well if the CO will let us off this tub, then I'll show you once we get through this warp."

"Speaking of warp." The doctor had looked out the window, and mine and the woman's gaze followed. The stars outside were seeming to shine brighter and compress. Then the PA speakers flared to life.

"Attention on deck! All personnel standby for Warp in five... Four..."

"You'll love this." Sarah muttered, and her hands grasped the sides of the table. The doctor had grabbed onto a handle set in the wall, and as the voice counted down I gripped the open space next to Sarah's knuckles.

"Two... One..." Suddenly the light, both outside the window and inside, seemed to compress into a single mass, and then explode into a bright white screen. And just like that: I, Carson, Sarah, and the entire Iliad, vanished into another region of space. Leaving nothing in our wake but an echo of light and stars.


	3. Officer On Deck

Warp complete, location: Feros system, all hands on deck for groundside deployments." A voice echoed over my head, and Sarah stretched next to me. I felt my stomach turn, and my whole body seemed to vibrate for a moment before calming down.

"That feels really weird." I muttered, and brushed my hands down my torso, as if I could wipe away the strange humming, electrical feeling in my bones.

"Eh, you get more and more used to it as time goes on." Sarah nodded to the doctor, "Are you going groundside this time, doc?"

"Me?" He picked up a clipboard and looked around at the few other dozing patients, that were strewn about the medical bay, "I'll go down with the second shuttle group if there's enough time, but for the moment I'll stay here. Just in case we need to bug out."

"Always the diligent one." She turned to the door, "JD, come with me. He's clear to go ground side, right, doc?"

"Just keep an eye on him." The doctor's voice took a serious tone, rather suddenly, "We're still not sure what... The gene treatment has altered." Suspicion, his voice was laced with it. He thought I may be a threat... Then again I very well could've been, I didn't even know my own name. For all I knew my memories could spring back, and I would decide that everyone around me was a threat, or I could sneeze and suddenly go catatonic, and every possibility between.

Sarah instructed me to stay close to her, and I trailed just behind as she weaved through the tight corridors of the Iliad. Our footsteps echoed, and meshed with the sounds of the crew rushing in halls around us. Every now and then a soldier or an engineer would go walking briskly past, dressed in the same drab color scheme as I.

"Where are we going?" I asked after a half a dozen hallways had been trecked, and we approached an elevator. Sarah took a moment to enter the elevator, and punch in a floor number before she answered.

"Down," The elevator took a calm lurch downward, and hummed as it moved, "not just down the ship, but down planetside. That is if our commanding officer will let you off the boat."

"Why are we heading down?" I asked, and the elevator suddenly opened up onto a giant floor. The entire deck was as tall as twelve of me stacked end to end, and ran far enough along that a game of football wouldn't be difficult whatsoever. I gawked for a moment, and watched as hundreds of soldiers and technicians attended to the dropships that the deck housed.

"I need to get a grip on your capabilities, and while we have simulators on board, I'd rather go planetside. Mainly because I need a break from this metal monster." She strolled confidently out of the elevator as we reached the deck, and we weaved our way past men and women doing all variety of tasks. Some welding and riveting, others loading supplies into containers and onto ships, others still off loading cargo.

"Big fiasco to go planet side." I raised my voice over the clamor and Sarah nodded.

"We try to avoid being stationary for too long." She stepped aside for a long canister of metal being carried by two men, and I followed suit, "After the battle of Demeter, the IMC is mostly on the defense, but hit and run tactics are still our bread and butter for the most part." Her mention of the battle of Demeter piqued my interest. Along with the name I felt a weight in my chest. Like my sternum had turned to iron.

"Battle of Demeter?" I ensured my tone was questioning enough that she would sate my dreadful curiosity.

"Right, no memories." The canister passed us fully, and we continued onward, passing under a dropship being repaired, and under a momentary shower of welding sparks, "The battle of Demeter was an operation nine months ago. The entire Frontier Militia, that's us, assaulted the IMC fueling platform at Demeter. Both fleets engaged in the outer atmosphere and groundside."

"Who won?" I ventured, and Sarah sighed.

"That's up in the air, mostly." She finally reached what she had been walking towards, a ship already filled with cargo and three soldiers. They all stood and saluted her, she returned the motion, muttered "at ease", and stepped in. Towards the cockpit of the ship was a man speaking over the pilot's shoulders, while making numerous gestures to the controls.

"I think our pilot knows how to pilot, Graves." Sarah spoke loudly to gain the man's attention. With a grunt the man turned, and smirked. I felt the pain in my brain return, the stinger sensation I'd felt when Folsom had ushered me into the dropship. The world around me warped, I was still in a dropship, but this time we were hovering over cracked and shattered buildings. Weapons were blazing, and another ship shot over us like a bullet. Then I was back, and the world seemed to hum for a moment.

"Everyone is allowed a few pointers, couldn't hurt." The man's dark cheeks drooped as his seemingly darker eyes spotted me, "Who is your escort?"

"I'm his escort, actually." Sarah gestured to me confidently, "This is the mystery captain, John Doe, prefers JD."

"And why is he here?" The man, clearly the officer she had mentioned didn't sound upset simply indignant at the lack of forewarning.

"I was hoping we'd be able to take him planetside with us. Doc's done all he can, and it'd be easiest to explain things to you in person while I ran him through some tests of my own. Also most of the medical scanning devices on the ship aren't of the same quality as grounded tech."

The man stared quietly at her for a moment, then simply gave a single nod, and took the seat next to the pilot. Sarah sat on the seat that shared it's back with the pilot overlooking the small cabin, and motioned for me to sit on the bench in the center. I took a glance at the CO fearful he'd suddenly turn and order me out, but after finding my fear to be unreliable, I sat.

The cold touch of the dropship was foreign and familiar, simultaneously. I tried to search my brain for the memories that kept flaring, but it struggled valiantly. I couldn't bring up anything, I couldn't even form any of the images I'd already seen again. Who I once was seemed hidden from me, and it planned to not reveal itself. So as we separated from the Iliad, I hoped that these 'tests' could somehow help me remember something. The ship powered up, and with the same stretching blur of light, we were suddenly in the atmosphere of the planet below us. I couldn't spot much at first, the dropship had warped directly into a sandstorm, but no one seemed to surprised. After a few moments vague shapes could be made out, and I saw a series of buildings below us surrounded by sand and stones.

"JD, this is Admiral Graves, our current tactician and operational commanding officer. He's Ex-IMC, but he came with high recommendations."

"I'd prefer my affairs not be discussed as if I'm not here." Graves spoke back to her without turning away from the windshield. He kept his gaze fixed on the landing pad as the pilot brought us down slowly.

"Of course, wouldn't want to spoil all your surprises."Sarah unbuckled her harness, and stood up as the dropship touched down. Graves did the same, and stepped down into the cabin.

"We certainly wouldn't." He hit a command into the console just above and behind him, and the door slid open for us. The troops departed first, and formed a line along the landing pad, keeping their eyes peeled for any threats.

"Are we in danger here?" I asked as we all stepped out of the dropship, and it started to quiet down. Sarah and Graves both made for a bridge that lead properly into the compound. I followed, my face being stung by sand flung at me by the wind.

"Mostly from the weather," Graves spoke as he moved, "but don't underestimate the wildlife. We have dog whistle towers set up at five-hundred meters out in each direction, can't see them through this storm. But we based our towers off of an old prototype we reverse engineered, they mainly… discourage animals, not defend against."

"Dog whistle towers?" I gazed out at the sand surrounding us, "What do they keep away?"

"Trust me, Captain, you'd rather not know." Graves and Sarah stopped at the doorway to the complex, and after a quick scan it flung open, and they entered.

"Come on, JD." Sarah beckoned, "I've got some machines to strap you into."

"Oh, more medical tech, please no needles." I joked, and Sarah smiled, as if in on some joke I didn't catch on to.

"Oh, I think you're gonna love this."


	4. Never Thought I'd See That

"You know, Sarah," I shouted over the din of the MRI machine, "not loving it so far. Wasn't a fan of the warp, either. I'm beginning to think you have a poor idea of what I'd love."

"I already told you," I couldn't see her, but I assumed she stood next to the technicians in the lab as I was scanned, "we need to run more tests before we get to the fun parts. So just lay there and relax while the giant magnet spins around your head." The medical room wasn't much larger than the one on the Iliad, but it had a much bigger array of devices. It was less a triage center and more a researcher center. And it seemed everyone was interested in me.

"This is some next level regeneration, I'd say." One of the medical officers, a woman named Marshall- last name I'd assume- voiced her opinion.

"You mean like the core veteran programs?" Graves asked, and I heard Marshall mutter an affirmation.

"That couldn't explain it," Sarah rebuked, "There's no regeneration that's ever done this."

"New breakthrough in the field maybe?"

"Hey guys," I spoke up, and heard the room shift towards me, "Someone wanna tell me what regeneration is?"

"Regeneration," Graves had decided to inform me, "It's a program in the core systems veteran division. They take Pilots with exceptional histories in combat, and give them… a do-over. It's a process of gene treatments and electronic neural coding that essentially resets your body to a state prior to combat."

"How is that possible." I spoke as they pulled me slowly out of the MRI, and sat up as Graves continued.

"Basically they memory wipe your time in the military except boot camp and Titan training. Then with stimulants and boosters they heal your body, and reduce effects of aging. It's not a trick to immortality by any means, but it'll keep you fighting twenty more years then elsewise."

"The problem is," Sarah spoke this time, "regeneration doesn't erase who you are. It doesn't change how you look, or your memories of who you are. It doesn't erase your fingerprints and smack new ones on. So if you were in the veteran divisions we would be able to tag you in our systems."

"Like the doctor said," Graves interjected, "it could be new technology, a medical breakthrough. MRI shows that he definitely did undergo some form of memory augmentation."

I took a moment to stand, and take in the information. This regeneration process seemed as likely a candidate for my memory loss as anything, but it also seemed to have holes easily poked into it. Truthfully, I couldn't ask for anything more concrete, so I may as well have continued digging.

"Why, exactly," I paused to consider my questions wording, "would anyone want to wipe their combat memory, all that experience, away."

"It's terrible, honestly." Sarah leaned against the railing of the raised control panels, and I looked up at the trio from my place below by the machines, "The veteran division is meant to be a PTSD recovery program, help pilots get past the scars from war time. It seemed all well… until he came along." She pointed to Graves and he sighed. I looked at him with interest, and he motioned for Sarah and I to follow him. He nodded to Marshall, and made his way out for the research lab and into the hallways of the facility.

"Being the former commander of the IMC forces on the frontier gives you some access to knowledge others wouldn't-"

"Wait," I cut him off, "You led the IMC?"

"The title of admiral is not one I received blindly from the Militia," He seemed genuinely irritated by my interruption, so I made a mental note not to cut him off again, but still he explained, "As I was saying, the veterans division publicly treats PTSD, but is in fact just another IMC tool for improvement. Firstly, only pilots can apply. If you're a bloody thirty pilot with a glorious track record but you receive an injury that would keep you out of war, you're fast tracked into the division. Then you're placed immediately into the regeneration program.

If you're actually diagnosed with PTSD they send you to the division. But rather than actual treatment, they give you flimsy psychology that will only serve to make you think you will never recover. Then, while you're down on your luck, while you're shattered and broken by the weight of your combat experience… they give you an offer."

"Regeneration." We entered a small room full of servers, not fully operational, but being powered on bit by bit from the crew.

"Exactly," Sarah took a seat by a monitor, and motioned for me to sit in a pod nearby, "Everyone accepts, if they were already bloodthirsty enough and only got injured then after regeneration of course they'd want to go back to the fight. And for everyone else… they pay extra attention in the wiping to whatever memories and feelings made them want to leave in the first place. They carve the trauma out of you, and then reenlist you."

"They're using their pilots like slave labor."

"Slave labor that doesn't remember being enslaved." Sarah pressed a few buttons, and the pod suddenly whirred to life, "Relax just a deep tissue scan. Grab those handles on the side, close your eyes, and breathe slowly." I sat quietly and did as instructed. I heard the pod whir, and thought i heard metallic clips engage. The grips I held jolted with momentary electricity, and despite trying to pull away my arms relaxed. I considered the small shock for a moment, but then a warm light washed over me, and the pod slowed its noise until it was practically silence. I was left with just a quiet residual hum.

"Was that it?" I asked with some nervousness in my tone.

"Yup, you can open your eyes now." Sarah's voice chirped up in the darkness, and I hesitated to open my eyes for a moment, "Everything alright?" I opened my eyes, and was met with the same room of servers I'd just been sitting in. Sarah and Graves were standing by the monitor looking at me like I was insane. Well actually Graves was giving me the same look he always gave me, but I still felt judged.

"Sorry, that just felt… weird." I couldn't place the sensation the pod had given me, but it felt… unnatural.

"That happens…" Graves motioned me forward, and I stood, "come on, one last test."

"Another machine." I sighed, and just thanked the heavens that I'd get away from the last machine's humming.

"We are going to test now if you really are a pilot." Graves moved towards a door that, at this point, I knew led outside, "The reason regeneration is used is not just to reuse soldiers, but to improve their natural abilities. A pilot who undergoes the process still retains the muscle memory of his prior combat experience. You consciously don't remember, but some things can't be entirely removed. It makes you faster, and allows you to catch on to concepts that would take others twice the time to learn." Graves had made his way across a large swath of metal, shielded from the storm, but now stepped out into the whipping wind, and swirling sand. We were on some kind of balcony platform overlooking the courtyard between the four structures that made up the compound. Graves moved to a nearby computer, and began entering commands.

"Okay, you guys have said this an awful lot, and I should've asked sooner, but… why does it matter if I'm a pilot?" They both looked at me, again, as if I was insane.

"What do you mean?" Graves laughed, "Pilots are otherworldly, incredibly fast and agile, the best soldiers we have."

"But what does it matter, if you're just flying a dropship around?"

"You never thought to tell him what he would be piloting?" Graves raised an eyebrow as he continued entering commands.

"I thought it'd be a nice surprise," Sarah grinned, and Graves rolled his eyes. Suddenly the screen flared to life.

"We read you Admiral Graves, your package is ready as requested," A voice erupted from the console, and graves hit a confirmation prompt that had appeared, "Roger sir, Standby for titanfall."

I didn't have time to ask what he had done. I hardly had any time to react. The sky split open with a roaring crack, and I glanced up to see a fireball rocketing down towards us out of the storm. Then with another valley-wide boom, the fireball shot hunks out in varying directions, revealing that it was only a shell holding something important. Graves' package came roaring down the last few hundred feet, and slammed into the center of the compound with a deafening thud. Sand erupted out from around it, and a bubble of light emerged for a moment. Then both slowly faded, and I stared in awe.

Before me was a giant monster of metal. Kneeling on the ground was a tower cybernetic version of a human. The robot stood easily two stories while kneeling, and had a massive chaingun in one hand. It's chassis was a slick slightly rounded design, with an 'H' shape at the front, and a hatch on the top. After a few more moments, it sprang to life and stood quickly on it's own. With a fluid motion it extended an arm to the platform, and opened it's palm.

"Ready to receive pilot for combat tutorial." A feminine voice echoed out from the machine, and Graves turned to me.

"This is an Atlas class titan, designed by Hammond Robotics." Graves stepped near it as he explained, and I wandered close to him, "It's designed as a unit to assist ground troops, and serves as an assault mech. It's an old design, but there's nothing like the classics. Titans are the bread and butter of the frontier: everything from construction to combat, medicine to murder. Titans can do it all… but not without a pilot."

"You mean," I approached the machines outstretched arm, "I pilot one of these?"

"You could, why don't you strap in and show us." Sarah motioned to it, and I hesitated, "What's wrong?"

"How do I…" I trailed off embarrassed now by my lag of understanding.

"Just step onto it's hand." Graves pointed to it, and I nodded. The metal beasts hand was smaller than I'd thought at first. It offered just enough room for me to steadily plant two feet. Then the machine moved again, but this time with me on it. I worried for an instant that I would fall, but somehow I knew how to tweak every muscle in my legs and hips so that I hardly even wobbled from the sudden motion. The large 'H' on the machines torso wasn't just for show, it also outlined a hatch that made up the machines front. With a quick hiss the hatch opened, and I saw a seat eerily familiar to the pod I'd just been in. The Titan placed it's hand nearly directly against the hatch, and waited for me to disembark. I took a breath, and then stepped into the seat. The hatch immediately closed behind me, just as my back made full contact with the chair and my hands wrapped around the grips. Again I was treated to a slight electric jolt that I could jerk away from if I'd wanted.

"Welcome Aboard, Pilot." The same feminine voice from before spoke. "I am OS codename Betty."

"Um, hello." I said, and was shocked as Sarah shouted in response.

"Yeah, Hi."

"You can hear me?" I asked, and suddenly the interior of the hatch became transparent, and I could see Graves and Sarah standing on the platform cross armed.

"Your voices is projecting out of the mech, it'll take some getting used to, but eventually you can make it do that or not at will."

"How am I doing any-" I almost finished my question when I realized the Titans hand was moving just as mine would have been had I not been placed in a seat with my hand on a control. On reflex I yanked my left hand off the joystick, and looked at it in shock.

"The Titan has linked to your nervous system, it's a natural extension of you." Graves spoke to the front of the Atlas like we were eye to eye, "It'll be a time and a half adjusting, but once you do you'll be able to open the hatch and shoot a pistol, while still running the Titan like a second body. So… anything to say?"

I stood quietly, and focus on the Titan's movement, adjusting to the odd sensation of having a larger body enveloping your own. Then after a few moments, and a vague attempt at opening and closing my giant robot fingers, I smiled.

"Sarah," I could recognize my voice echoing towards them this time, over an all-too-familiar humming, "You were right… I love it."


	5. Time To Tussle

"Engaging multiple contacts!" The Titan operating system, codenamed Betty, was magnificent at monitoring the battlefield. It could pick out targets before I got the opportunity, and issue assessments of the situation simultaneously. It was a nice addition to the many other wonderful features of the Atlas Titan.

My personal favorite was the chaingun. The massive weapon was nothing short of amazing. With how quickly the Titan read my thoughts I could swing it any direction and send gigantic rounds down range before I could have time to blink. It still required loading which wasn't all too bad considering the octuple ammo reserve around the Titan's hip. I knew that if the Titan wasn't filtering out some of the noise that the extreme firing rate of the weapon would deafen me in minutes.

Graves had sent two dozen Spectres at me, claiming that if I was successful it'd make up for the loss in firepower. I personally found the robots to be, essentially, Cannon fodder. With the power of the Titan I was mowing down the machines as fast as the could appear, and after what seemed like seconds the wave was complete. I was almost disappointed when the last Spectre fell twitching to the dirt.

"You've definitely got the reflexes for it." Graves spoke up, and I turned to him.

"Those Spectres are fast little things, but this-" I flexed the arms of the Titan proudly, "This is unstoppable."

"Sadly you're wrong." The admiral approached another console, "Titans can be dropped in combat just the same as anything else. Don't let the firepower get to your head. I'm going to send you another wave of Spectres and this time your goal will be defense."

The fabricators nearby hummed quietly and a dozen Spectres with bright orange lighting stepped out of them single file. I heard another activate and turned to see two more Spectres with a bright green lighting appear behind me.

"Titans are used not only as striking platforms, but as a reinforcement and rescue unit. This simulation will test your ability to defend two squad mates under heavy opposition. They will follow your command to an extent but they are programmed to deviate slightly at random intervals. In combat you must be aware of yourself, your enemies, and your allies. Program… Start."

The Spectre units all snapped to attention with a rapid hum and the clink of metal. The two behind me burst towards small metallic barriers that jutted free of the sand while the others opened fire on myself and my 'squad'. These lot were different than the first batch. While the first all had small arms that my Titan's shield easily rebuked, this lot also had heavy weapons. I didn't realize this, however until a large ball of flaming metal slammed into my Mechs shoulder, aka five feet right of my head.

I cursed, and angled the Titan in an attempt to avoid further fire. I immediately saw the negative of my metal behemoth, that being it was a behemoth. The machine could take on a dozen small opponents easily, but not without making itself a massive target. I could hear a loud beeping symbol and the HUD flared a red symbol indicating an enemy locking on to the Titan. I tried rapidly to blast the shooter down but couldn't find them in enough time to avoid another rocket smashing into my cockpit exterior. This time the shield wavered just enough for me to feel not only the shockwave but the heat as well. Then the Spectres stopped moving.

"Uh, Graves?" I heard Sarah mutter nearby, and I kept my guard up, readying myself for the simulation to re-engage. After a few moments I realized this may have been unexpected.

"What's going on?" I asked as my Titan slowly lowered it's guard.

"Systems across the board are reading red." Graves was at the same terminal he'd called the Titan from and was trying desperately to get it to do something.

"Sir, what's happening." Sarah stepped forward from her place nearby.

"Danger," Betty echoed out inside my cabin and over the battlefield, "hostile Titanfall detected!" Before I could prepare myself any further half a dozen rockets seemed to go off overhead, but, of course, these weren't actual rockets, no that would've been too quick and painless. The entire complex was on red alert by the time the first Titan made landfall, and the defense systems activated rapidly in an attempt to assail the intruder. They were thoroughly distracted when the five other Titans crashed down in rapid succession, and blasted half of the turrets to bits with large cannon weapons.

"The IMC found us, prepare for immediate evacuation." Graves ran for the nearest cover that he could while I readied my weapons against the other Titans.

"You are outnumbered five to one." Betty said calmly over the loud obtrusive hum, and then numerous alerts appeared on the HUD, "I suggest immediate tactical retreat."

"Graves! Sarah! Turn those Spectres back on!" I aimed the chaingun, and opened fire on the enemy Titans. One of them immediately raised some kind of flickering barrier, and every shot seemed to dissolve against its surface. Two of the others began the process of destroying the base by slamming their chassis' into the wall. Meanwhile the other three all readied their own massive weaponry, and my shields were rapidly shredded. I fired a rocket salvo from my shoulder mounted weapons systems to afford myself some breathing room, and a few managed to snake around the barrier. While I was preparing to be slaughtered Graves was trying to get the console to cooperate, and one of the enemy titans noticed.

I watched a laser line targeting the Admiral from a large enemy Titan, and inside I felt something. I knew logically that I should just bail from the Titan and leave, I hardly knew these people. Inside though, somewhere inside my head I felt the urge to stop them, not just to save Graves. Somewhere inside there was suddenly a burning urge to stop the IMC to keep them from every single goal they had. So I moved my Titan between Graves and the other, and I sighted the tank of a mech down my chaingun. Unfortunately my shields were still recharging, and the Titan had already fired.

The round tore through my Atlas' lower right, and ripped a chunk of the cockpit clean away. I could hear the groaning of metal, and the numerous blaring of alarms over a quiet residual hum. My HUD was still active, and it read out that every system was shutting off. I could still move what remained of the mech, and the other Titans weren't finished. So I balanced the toppled pile of metal, and fired another salvo from the rocket pod. The barrier was down, and the smallest of the Titans, the one who'd laid out the barrier initially, was forced back behind one of the buildings. Meanwhile the other two, the larger tank-like Titan and a shimmering Atlas, moved actively. I'd have been dead immediately, but Graves finally got the Spectres running. With surprising speed the drones opened fire on the enemy Titans. Bullets, rockets, and lasers flared upward at the machines, and they each deployed a large spinning shield.

"Betty, do I have one of those?" I asked as I tried to salvage my mech to the best of my abilities.

"Vortex shield systems are standard on all Atlas model mechanized infantry."

"Awesome, how do I use it?"

"Vortex Shield system disabled, power core damaged." My HUD showed a schematic of the Titan and highlighted the shield system which had apparently been blown off by the round that had ruptured the cockpit.

"Yeah, that figures." I opened fire with the chaingun on the other Atlas, and it was drastically unprepared for fire from my Titan and the Spectres. Before it could adjust its shield it had already lost its standard shields, and now Spectres were firing numerous rockets upward into the underside of the cockpit. The Titan tried to adjust, but at the same time the turrets on the nearby building powered on, and the poor machine was under the load of about thirty separate lines of fire. Suddenly the Atlas locked up in a tight rigid pose, and the cockpit exploded upwards, then the entire machine exploded in a burst of light and shrapnel, and the courtyard was blasted to bits.

"They explode!" I shouted out loud to seemingly no one, but Graves was quick to answer.

"Nuclear ejection, it's a module that destabilizes the reactor inside of a titan when the pilot ejects, don't worry it only happens if you eject."

"I have an idea." I lugged my Titan forward with it's remaining arms, and discarded the chaingun. The tank-like Titan was joining its companions in damaging the base, and I moved quickly to try and close the gap. Then the smaller one from earlier returned, and marked it's return my firing a round into the side of my Titan. I didn't have any more time, and the Titans were making short work of me. So I reached down to pull the ejection lever, but immediately regretted every decision I'd recently made. The bottom right of my cockpit had been torn away, including the manual ejection lever.

"Shit." I looked up, and a giant foot came rushing down onto the cockpit. I closed my eyes and waited for the sound of crushing metal, but only heard that same hum.

"Well you lasted longer than we expected." Sarah's voice shocked me, and I opened my eyes to glance around. I was no longer inside the Atlas cockpit, instead I was inside the scanning pod from earlier.

"What the hell?" I nearly screamed, and I pulled my hands off of the control handles.

"Relax," Graves spoke this time, "that isn't a scanning device, it's a simulation pod. It works just like a Titan does, it directly connects to your nerves and allows you to interact with a virtual environment as if it were real. We thought we'd give you a test, so we didn't tell you this before hand." The green lights in the pod glimmered one more time, and then it opened. I noticed that the humming stopped the moment the pod shut down, and thinking back I remembered it throughout my entire time pilot the Titan… or not actually piloting the Titan.

"You managed to get yourself trashed thirty seconds later than we had expected." Sarah was sitting at the same console she had been when I entered the pod to be 'scanned'.

"No one ever wins the 5 to 1 simulation." Graves reached into the pod to help me up, and I took his hand, "especially not when they're fresh in the cockpit."

"The IMC they-"

"Aren't actually here," Graves pat my shoulder, "you're safe. And if your actions in the sim tell us anything, it's that we are too. Thanks for taking that railgun shot for me… well, what you thought was me."

Graves was thanking me, but he was still looking at me with that same face as before, and I still couldn't shake the feeling that we knew each other. I desperately wanted to say that I had taken the shot to save him, and that it was just my selfless nature. It would've been a lie, because I figured out the odd feeling he gave me, the strange vibe I'd noted when I met him. Deep down… part of me wanted to tear the man to pieces, and I had no idea why. So, I thought to myself as they shut down the pod to move along and show me my quarters, why hadn't I?


End file.
